Salzburg and its Orchestra
The picture of Salzburg painted by Mozart in his letters is unflattering in the extreme, as a series of excerpts from the years 1775-81 will show:
14 January 1775: 'I fear that we cannot return to Salzburg very soon and Mamma must not wish it, for she knows how much good it is doing me to be able to breathe freely'.
4 September 1776: 'My father has already served this court for 36 years, and as he knows that the present Archbishop cannot and will not have anything to do with people who are getting on in years [Leopold was 56] , he doesn't allow it to worry him, but has taken up literature, which was always a favourite study of his'.
1 August 1777: 'Your Grace [the Archbishop] will not take this petition [to leave Salzburg] amiss, seeing that when I asked you for permission to travel to Vienna 3 years ago, you graciously declared that I had nothing to hope for in Salzburg, and would do better to seek my fortune elsewhere'.
23 September 1777: '...our Mufti [Archbishop] H[ieronymus] C[olloredo] is a bastard...'.
26 September 1777: 'They were both amazed and absolutely refused to believe that my late lamented salary used to be all of 12 gulden, 30 kreutzer [a month]... I am always in my very best spirits, for my heart has been as light as a feather ever since I got away from all that chicanery! - what is more, I have become fatter'.
30 September 1777 : '...Salzburg is no place for me, truly it is not'.
10 December 1777: '...a town where one is accustomed to having stupid enemies, [or] weak and silly friends who, because Salzburg's bread of affliction is indispensable to them, are always toadying and are consequently one thing one day and another the next'.
19 February 1778: '...Salzburg, where we are not in the habit of contradicting anyone...'.
9 July 1778: '...one of my chief reasons for detesting Salzburg [is] those coarse, slovenly, dissolute court musicians. Why, no honest man of good breeding could possibly live with them! Indeed, instead of wanting to associate with them, he would feel ashamed of them. It is probably for this very reason that musicians are neither popular nor respected among us. Ah, if only the orchestra were organised as they are at Mannheim. Indeed, I would like you to see the discipline which prevails there and the authority which Cannabich wields. There everything is done seriously. Cannabich, who is the best director I have ever seen, is both beloved and feared by his subordinates. Morever he is respected by the whole town and so are his soldiers. But certainly they behave quite differently from ours. They have good manners, are well dressed, and do not go to pubs and swill. This can never be the case in Salzburg, unless the Prince will trust you or me and give us full authority as far as the music is concerned - otherwise it's no good. In Salzburg everyone - or rather no one - bothers about the music. If I were to undertake it, I should have to have complete freedom of action. The Chief Steward should have nothing to say to me in musical matters, or on any point relating to music. For a courtier can't do the work of a Kapellmeister, but a Kapellmeister can well be a courtier'.
7 August 1778: 'Now for our Salzburg story. You, most beloved friend, are well aware how I detest Salzburg - and not only on account of the injustices which my dear father and I have endured there, which in themselves would be enough to make one want to forget such a place and blot it out of the memory for ever! But let us set that aside, if only we can arrange things so as to be able to live there well. To live well and to live happily are two very different things, and the latter I could not do without having recourse to witchcraft... I have far more hope of living pleasantly and happily in any other place. Perhaps you will misunderstand me and think that Salzburg is too small for me? If so, you are greatly mistaken. I have already given some of my reasons to my father. In the meantime, content yourself with this one, that Salzburg is no place for my talent. In the first place, professional musicians there are not held in much consideration, and, secondly, one hears nothing, there is no theatre [this statement is not strictly accurate], no opera, and even if they really wanted one, who is there to sing? For the last five or six years the Salzburg orchestra has always been rich in what is useless and superfluous, but very poor in what is necessary, and absolutely destitute of what is indispensible; and such is the case at the present moment'.
11 September 1778: 'To tell you my real feelings, the only thing that disgusts me about Salzburg is the impossibility of mixing freely with the people, and the low estimation in which the court musicians are held there - and - that the Archbishop has no confidence in the experience of intelligent people who have seen the world... If the Archbishop would only trust me, I should soon make his orchestra famous; of this there can be no doubt'.
15 October 1778: 'Consider it yourself - put yourself in my place! At Salzburg I don't know how I stand. I am everything - and yet - sometimes - nothing! Nor do I ask so much nor so little - I just want something - I must be somethingl'.
12 November 1778: '...the Archbishop cannot pay me enough for that slavery in Salzburg! As I said before, I feel the greatest pleasure at the thought of paying you a visit - but only annoyance and anxiety when I see myself back at that beggarly court!'
3 December 1778: 'Ah, how much finer and better our orchestra might be, if only the Archbishop desired it. Probably the chief reason why it is not better is because there are far too many performances. I have no objection to the chamber music, only to the concerts on a larger scale'.
8 January 1779: 'I swear to you on my honour that I cannot bear Salzburg or its inhabitants (I mean, the natives of Salzburg). Their language - their manners are quite intolerable to me'.
16 December 1780: '...Upon my honour, it is not Salzburg itself but the Prince and his noble disdain which become every day more intolerable to me'.
8 April 1781: '...to waste one's youth in inactivity in such a beggarly place is really very sad - and also unprofitable'.
16 May 1781: '...even if I had to beg, I could never serve such a master again; for, as long as I live, I shall never forget what has happened'.
26 May 1781: '...in Salzburg - for me at least - there is not a farthing's worth of entertainment. I refuse to associate with a good many people there - and most of the others do not think me good enough. Besides, there is no stimulus for my talent! When I play or when any of my compositions are performed, it is just as if the audience were all tables and chairs. If at least there were a theatre there worthy of the name'.
The historian's task is not only to publish interesting documents, but also to interpret them. In this instance we must deal with three aspects of Mozart's polemics against Salzburg; the people, the Archbishop, and the orchestra.
It is perhaps true that the people of Salzburg were, as the musician Schubart wrote in the 1770’s, 'exceedingly inclined to low humour. Their folk songs are so comical and burlesque that one cannot listen to them without side-splitting laughter. The Punch-and-Judy spirit shines through everywhere...'. The irony of this, however, is that Mozart himself, despite his superior education and haughty attitude, was very much of the same persuasion. His letters are filled with Salzburg dialect, local puns, and coarse jokes. And his strong complaints could easily obscure the fact that the Mozarts also had dear friends and strong supporters in their native city. The clue here lies in Leopold's snobbery, for he had raised his son to be socially ambitious and to avoid unnecessary contact with the lower classes. Hence his displeasure at Wolfgang's choice of wife and his delight at arranging for Nannerl to marry into a higher social class. The son was trying to please the father when he wrote that he refused 'to associate with a good many people', but he was expressing his own anguished' predicament - the predicament of a lad raised as a bourgeois in the midst of Salzburg's vestigial feudalism where the middle class was small and powerless - when he added, 'and most of the others do not think me good enough'. The Mozarts' profound disillusionment arose not only from the Archbishop's bad treatment and poor pay, but from the contrast with their treatment elsewhere. During their extensive travels the Mozarts, because they dressed well, spoke well, and came well-introduced, were accepted as near equals by the upper classes of dozens of European courts and cities. But a prophet may be without honour in his own land, and at home Leopold and Wolfgang were merely liveried servants.
The Archbishop may well deserve the hatred of generations of Mozart worshippers but, as is so often the case, there is another side to the story. It is true, for instance, that the able Leopold was passed over time and again for the position of Kapellmeister, and died still only Vizekapellmeister. But he had been away on tour a good deal of the time, and his best energies had gone into raising his son and not into serving the Archbishop and working toward advancement at home. In Wolfgang's case, it is instructive that, although many of the Viennese nobility admired him greatly, none offered him a permanent post after he settled there, for he could be difficult, haughty, defensive, mercurial, and painfully conscious of his unusual gifts-in short, not the personality to make a good courtier or the head of a large musical establishment. The contrast with Joseph Haydn is striking, for although Haydn inevitably fought unjust treatment at the hands of his Lords, the Princes Esterházy, he never forgot his station in life and he aspired to serve well and loyally. Most of Mozart's potential employers evidently preferred as their Kapellmeisters any one of a hundred competent but uninspired musicians to the brilliant but uppish Mozart.
As for the Salzburg orchestra, it was indeed going through a difficult period in which there was even for a time, in the late 1770's, no Kapellmeister at all. Discipline was undoubtedly less than ideal. But it was a good-sized, active organization that gave several performances a week (too many, Mozart tells us), and while it may not have been up to the standards Mozart had encountered in Mannheim and a few other European musical centres, it was far better than many of the other orchestras he heard on his travels. (It should be noted that the Mozarts were seldom generous with their praise of music or musicians). The official roster of the Salzburg court orchestra in the early1780's s included Luigi Gatti, Kapellmeister, Leopold Mozart, Vizekapellmeister (and violinist), Johann Michael Haydn, Konzertmeister (and violist and organist), 2 other organists, 11 other violinists, 1 other violist, 2 cellists, 4 double bass players, 2 bassoonists, 3 oboists, 2 horn players, and 3 trombonists. Many of these musicians played more than one instrument, and they were supplemented on important occasions by additional performers drawn from the town waits, the trumpet and kettledrum players of the local militia, and various amateur performers at court. Thus the composition of the Salzburg orchestra varied widely from season to season and from occasion to occasion. As reconstituted for these recordings, the orchestra is as it may have been heard at festive events during the year: the strings 9-8-4-3-2, and the necessary woodwind, brass, kettle drums and harpsichord, with 3 bassoons doubling the bass line whenever obbligato parts for them are not indicated.

The Symphony as a Genre
After Beethoven, the symphony was the most important large-scale instrumental genre for the Romantic composers. Their conception of the symphony as an extended work of the utmost seriousness, intended as the centrepiece of a concert, is very far from what the musicians of the second half of the 18th century had in mind for their symphonies. This can be seen by comparing the large number of symphonies turned out then with the handful written by the major 19th-century symphonists. It can also be seen in the small number and brevity of passages devoted to symphonies in the newspaper accounts, memoires and correspondence of the period. And it can be seen in the uses to which 18th-century symphonies were put.
A pair of contemporaneous German definitions and descriptions of the symphony may serve to illustrate how these works were viewed. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart, who became acquainted with the Mozarts when he visited Salzburg in the 1770's,defined the symphony as follows: 'This genre of music originated from the overtures of musical dramas, and came finally to be performed in private concerts. As a rule it consists of an allegro, an andante, and a presto. However, our artists are no longer bound to this form, and often depart from it with great effect. Symphony in the present fashion is, as it were, loud preparation for and vigorous introduction to hearing a concert'.
Johann Philipp Kirnberger, writing a definition for Sulzer's Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste, entered into more detail: 'In the symphony... where there is more than one instrument to a part, the melody must have reached its highest expression in the notes as written out, and in no part can the slightest ornamentation or coloratura be tolerated. Becauseit will not be practised like the sonata, but must be sight-read, it should contain no difficulties that cannot be met and performed clearly by several players simultaneously.
'The symphony is particularly suited to the expression of greatness, solemnity and stateliness. Its purpose is to prepare the listener for the important music that follows, or, in a concert in a hall, to exhibit all the pomp of instrumental music. lf it is to carry out this purpose adequately and become part of the opera or church music that it precedes, then, besides an expression of greatness and solemnity, it must also have a character that puts the listener in the proper frame of mind for the piece to follow, and in the manner in which it is composed, must show whether it befits the church or the theatre.
'The concert symphony, which constitutes an independent entity with no notion of its serving to introduce other music, achieves its purpose solely through asonorous, brilliant, and fiery manner of writing. The allegros of the best concert symphonies contain great and bold ideas; free treatment of counterpoint; apparent disorder in melody and harmony; strongly marked rhythms in various manners; powerful bass lines and unison passages; inner voices of melodic significance; free imitations; often a theme treated fugally; sudden shifts and modulations from one key to another, which are often all the more striking the more distant the relationship between the keys is; strong shadings of forte and piano, and especially the crescendo, which, when it accompanies both an ascending melodic line and an intensifying expression, is of the greatest effect...'.
Mozart wrote his symphonies as curtainraisers to plays, operas, cantatas, oratorios, and private and public concerts. They may occasionally have been used as part of church services. In addition to opening concerts with symphonies, Mozart sometimes also used them to end concerts, or even to begin and end each half of a long concert. Judging by the number of symphonies he wrote in Salzburg (or that he wrote elsewhere and then used in Salzburg), there must have been a steady demand for them there.
With the arguable exception of the last few, Mozart's symphonies were perhaps intended to be witty, charming, brilliant, and even touching, but undoubtedly not profound, learned, or of great significance. The main attractions at concerts were not the symphonies, but the vocal and instrumental solos and chamber music that the symphonies introduced. Approaching Mozart's symphonies with this attitude in mind relieves them of a romantic heaviness under which they have all too often been crushed.

Performance Practice
The use of 18th-century instruments with the proper techniques of playing them gives to the Academy of Ancient Music a clear, vibrant, articulate sound. Inner voices are clearly audible without obscuring the principal melodies. Rhythmic patterns and subtle differences in articulation are more distinct than can usually be heard with modern instruments. The use of little or no vibrato serves further to clarify the texture. At lively tempos and with this luminous timbre, the observance of all of Mozart's repeats no longer makes movements seem too long. A special instance concerns the da capos of the minuets, where, an ancient oral tradition tells us, the repeats are always omitted. But, as we were unable to trace that tradition as far back as Mozart's time, we experimented by including those repeats as well. Missing instruments understood in 18th-century practice to be required have been supplied: these include bassoons playing the bass-line along with the cellos and double basses, kettle drums whenever trumpets are present (except in the case of the Symphony in Eb, K.184, where chromaticism renders their use less idiomatic) and the harpsichord continuo. No conductor is needed, as the direction of the orchestra is divided in true 18th-century fashion between the concertmaster and the continuo player, who are placed so that they can see each other and are visible to the rest of the orchestra. Following 18th-century injunctions to separate widely the softest and loudest instruments, the flutes and trumpets are placed at opposite sides of the orchestra. And the first and second violins are placed at the left and right respectively, making meaningful the numerous passages Mozart wants tossed back and forth between them.

Musical Sources and Editions
Until recently performers of Mozart's symphonies have relied upon the editions drawn from the old complete works, published in the 19th century by the Leipzig firm of Breitkopf & Härtel. During the past quarter century, however, a new complete edition of Mozart's works (NMA) has been slowly appearing, published by Bärenreiter of Kassel under the aegis of the Mozarteum of Salzburg. The NMA has been used for almost all the symphonies from K.128 to K.551. For the early symphonies not yet published in the NMA, editions have been created especially for these recordings, drawing on Mozart's manuscripts when they could be seen, and on 18th- and 19th-century copies in those cases where the autographs were unavailable. (14 of Mozart's symphonies are among musical manuscripts formerly in the Berlin library but now being held in Poland and inaccessible to Western musicologists.)

The first edition of Ludwig Ritter von Köchel's Chronological-Thematic Catalogue of the Complete Works of Wolfgang Amaadé Mozart was published in 1862 (=K1). It listed all of the completed works of Mozart known to Köchel in what he believed to be their chronological order, from number 1 (infant harpsichord work) to 626 (the Requiem). The second edition by Paul Graf von Waldersee in 1905 involved primarily minor corrections and clarifications. A thoroughgoing revision came first with Alfred Einstein's third edition, published in 1936 (=K3). (A reprint of this edition with a sizeable supplement of further corrections and additions was published in 1946 and is sometimes referred to as K3a.) Einstein changed the position of many works in Köchel's chronology, threw out as spurious some works Köchel had taken to be authentic, and inserted as authentic some works Köchel believed spurious or did not know about. He also inserted into the chronological scheme incomplete works, sketches, and works known to have existed but now lost. These Köchel had
placed in an appendix (=Anhang, abbreviated Anh.) without chronological order. Köchel's original numbers could not be changed, for they formed the basis of cataloguing for thousands of publishers, libraries, and reference works. Therefore, the new numbers were inserted in chronological order between the old ones by adding lower-case letters. The so-called fourth and fifth editions were nothing more than unchanged reprints of the 1936 edition, without the 1946 supplement. The sixth edition, which appeared in 1964 and was edited by Franz Giegling, Alexander Weinmann, and Gerd Sievers (=K6), continued Einstein's innovations by adding numbers with lower-case letters appended, and a few with upper-case letters in instances in which a work had to be inserted into the chronology between two of Einstein's lowercase insertions. (A so-called seventh edition is an unchanged reprint of the sixth). Hence, many of Mozart's works bear two K numbers, and a few have three.
Although it was not Köchel's intention in devising his catalogue, Mozart's age at the time of composition of a work may be calculated with some degree of accuracy from the K number. (This works, however, only for numbers over 100). This is done by dividing the number by 25 and adding 10. Then, if one keeps in mind that Mozart was born in 1756, the year of composition is also readily approximated.
The old Complete Works of Mozart published 41 symphonies in 3 volumes between 1879 and 1882, numbered 1 to 41 according to the chronology of K1. Additional symphonies appeared in supplementary volumes and are sometimes numbered  42 to 50, even though they are early works.

Bibiography

• Anderson, Emily: The Letters of Mozart & His Family (London, 1966)
• Burney, Charles: The Present State of Music in Germany, The Netherlands, and United Provinces (London, 1773)
• Della Croce, Luigi: Le 75 sinfonie de Mozart (Turin, 1977)
• Eibl, Joseph Heinze, et al.: Mozart: Briefe und Aufzeichnungen (Kassel, 1962-75)
• Koch, Heinrich: Musilcalisches Lexikon (Frankfort, 1802)
• Landon, H. C. Robbins: 'La crise romantique dans la musique autrichienne vers 1770: quelques précurseurs inconnus de la Symphonie en sol mineur (KV 183) de Mozart', Les influences étrangères dans l'oeuvre de W. A. Mozart (Paris, 1958)
• Larsen, Jens Peter: 'A Challenge to Musicology: the Viennese Classical School', Current Musicology (1969), ix
• Mahling, Christoph-Hellmut: 'Mozart und die Orchesterpraxis seiner Zeit', Mozart-Jahrbuch (1967)
• Mila, Massimo: Le Sinfonie de Mozart (Turin, 1967)
• Saint-Foix, Georges de: Les Symphonies de Mozart (Paris, 1932)
• Schneider, Otto, and Anton Algatzy: Mozart-Handbuch (Vienna, 1962)
• Schubart, Ludwig: Christ, Fried. Dan. Schubart's Ideen zu einer Asthetik der Tonkunst (Vienna, 1806)
• Schultz, Detlef: Mozarts Jugendsinfonien (Leipzig, 1900)
• Sulzer, Johann Georg: Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste (Berlin, 1771-74)
• Zaslaw, Neal: 'The Compleat Orchestral Musician', Early Music (1979), vii/1
• Zaslaw, Neal: 'Toward the Revival of the Classical Orchestra', Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association (1976-77), ciii
  

During the years 1770-75 Mozart had an attack of what Massimo Mila has charmingly called 'symphony fever', for during that 6-year span he created no fewer than 36 symphonies. In the following 8 years the fever had subsided, however, and we record only 9 symphonies. This reduced production is undoubtedly in part due to Mozart's disillusionment with Salzburg which is so painfully documented in his letters. He was no longer so interested in impressing his compatriots, and must often have fallen back on his large stock of older works when a symphony was called for. Even after Mozart's move to Vienna, however, where there were numbers of potential employers among the nobility whom Mozart hoped to impress, the production of symphonies remained small. He was by then much more interested in piano concertos in which he could display his considerable skill as a soloist, and above all in opera, the domain in which he hoped to make his principal reputation.
The symphony based on the overture to Il re pastore and those drawn from the Posthorn serenade and from the 2 works for the Haffner family were the last works in which Mozart engaged in such refurbishment. On the one hand, after settling in Vienna he abandoned the Salzburgian genre of the orchestral serenade. On the other hand, the overtures to his great operas had apparently evolved to the point at which he no longer considered them interchangeable with concert symphonies.

Symphony in C major, K. 213c (102)
This symphony is derived from Mozart's opera Il re pastore ('The shepherd king'), a famous libretto by Metastasio set by a number of composers of the period, including Gluck. Mozart composed the opera in the space of about 6 weeks prior to its premiere in Salzburg on 23 April 1775. The opera had been commissioned to celebrate a visit to Salzburg by the Archduke Maximilian, youngest son of the Austrian Empress Maria Theresa. As Salzburg had no opera house, this work may well have been given in concert form, and indeed the Archduke's travel diary speaks only of attending a 'cantata'. The plot concerns the conflict between love and duty in a foundling prince who, having been raised as a shepherd, is reluctant to give up his rustic life for the burdens of the throne. Mozart's one-movement 'overtura' to the opera begins with the same three chords with which his previous symphony (K. 213a) began, but there follows in this case a movement much more concise and Italianate. This leads without a break to an andantino that Mozart manufactured from the first aria of the opera. This he accomplished by substituting a solo oboe for the shepherd king Aminta (sung by a castrato) and by writing a new ending 8 bars long, which leads, again without pause, into a totally new finale. This movement, presto assai in 2/4, is an extended rondo in the style of a country dance.
The aria upon which the middle movement of the symphony is based finds Aminta with flute in hand wondering what fate holds for him and his shepherdess. The text reads:

Intendo, amico rio,
quel basso mormorio,
tu chiedi in tua favella;
il nostro ben dov'e?

(I understand, o friendly brook,
your low murmuring,
you are asking in your way
where our beloved is.)

Mozart took this symphony with him on his trip to Paris in 1778, using it on the way to close a concert at the house of the Mannheim composer, Christian Cannabich,on 13 February 1778. The rest of the concert consisted of a symphony by Cannabich; Mozart's piano concerto in Bb, K. 238, played by Cannabich's daughter Rosa; Mozart's oboe concerto in C, K. 314; 2 arias from Lucio Silla, K. 135, sung by Mozart's current love and future sister-in-law Aloysia Weber; Mozart's piano concerto in D, K. 175, performed by himself; and a half hour of his extemporisation at the fortepiano.

Symphony in D major, K. 248b (250)
Mozart's 'Haffner' serenade is a much-loved work (not to be confused, however, with the ‘Haffner' symphony, K. 385, discussed later). The Haffners and the Mozarts were friends of long standing in Salzburg, and when Maria Elisabeth (‘Liserl') Haffner was to marry, it was to be expected that the 20-year-old Mozart should be asked for some suitable music to celebrate the occasion. The serenade which resulted received its first performance at an eve-of-the-wedding party, and the Salzburg court councillor von Schiedenhofen who was present entered in his diary:

'21 luly 1776: After dinner I went to the bridal
music that young Herr Haffner ordered to be
put on for his sister Liserl. It was by Mozart,
and done at their summer house in Loreto
Street.'

Like most of Mozart's orchestral serenades, this work consists of a march followed by a mixture of symphony and concerto movements (in this instance, a three-movement violin concerto). At some later date Mozart or his father ordered a copyist to extract a set of orchestra parts containing only the symphonic movements. To this Leopold added a part for the kettle drums (lacking in the serenade score), and Wolfgang looked through the set of parts and entered a number of corrections and clarifications. At yet a later date, these corrected parts were used by another copyist who added a second set of string parts. The resulting set of 16 orchestral parts was in Mozart's possession at his death, which suggests that he used them for his concerts in Vienna. Furthermore, it is likely that this symphony was one of 6 that in 1784 Mozart hoped to have published, the set to be dedicated to Prince von Fürstenberg. (In the event, however, only 2 appeared - K. 319 and 385 - and without the proposed dedication.)
The symphony version may perhaps have been created as early as 1776-77, for we know that in preparation for his departure for Mannheim and Paris, Wolfgang, in September 1777 assembled a large collection of orchestral parts of his recent symphonies. In any case, the symphony was in existence by September 1779, for an entry in Nannerl's diary in Wolfgang's hand on the 24th of that month mentions a performance in Salzburg of 'the Haffner music'. This could, of course, be taken to refer to the serenade version, except that on 18 March 1780 Mozart again entered the details of a concert programme into his sister's diary, and the first of the nine items listed is clearly designated 'A symphony (namely the Haffner music)'. As a serenade was designed to fill an entire occasion while a symphony was to introduce other works, this was most probably the symphony version.
The opening, allegro maestoso in common time, is little more than an extended fanfare moving from tonic to dominant, spread over 35 bars and filled with lovely orchestral figurations. After a brief pause, the allegro molto alla breve opens unisono, a texture which recurs several times during the movement with good dramatic effect. The movement is on a large scale for a symphony movement of the late 1770's, with an unusually extended and chromatic development section based on material from the allegro maestoso introduction. Differences between this version and the serenade include (aside from the written-out kettle drums) the omission of the repeat of the exposition and the addition of a fanfare for oboes, horns and trumpets at the end where there had been a grand pause.
'Menuetto galante’ is an unusual designation, and perhaps best rendered 'fashionable minuet'. Fashionable or not, it is a particularly long and beautiful minuet. The trio is not without its touches of pathos. Mozart rewrote this trio for the symphony version, changing a broken-chord triplet accompaniment in the second violins (as in Beethoven's 'Moonlight' sonata) to repeated notes, and adding oboes and bassoons to what was originally for strings only.
The andante which follows was taken over unchanged from the serenade. It reveals its origins by its sprawling dimensions. The movement is of a particularly original formal design, perhaps best described as an elaborate rondo influenced by the double theme-and-variations format favoured by Joseph Haydn for his symphony andantes. It is difficult to listen to this movement without imagining (Italian) words, for the melodies and rhythms are reminiscent of many arias of the period. It is perhaps this aspect of the movement that prompted Della Croce to hypothesize a nuptial programme. He hears 'the characterization of the two spouses, who correspond respectively to the principal theme, pensive and angelic, and a second, more ingratiating theme, nearly always entrusted to the oboes'. This analysis, however, leaves us to guess what (or whom) several other themes may represent.
Two or three minuets and minuets with two or three trios were common in Salzburg orchestral serenades but uncommon (although not unheard of) in symphonies. Certain late 18th and early 19th century manuscripts of this symphony have the 'superfluous' movements excised, suggesting the growth of a concept of symphonic format more rigid than that which Mozart himself held in the 1770s. A pair of flutes replace the oboes in the second minuet and its 2 trios. In an attractive touch of rustic drone near the end of the minuet's second section, Mozart hints at the sound of the hurdy-gurdy, while the first trio features a flute and bassoon duet and the second gives the entire wind band a chance to shine.
The finale opens with a 16-bar adagio of great beauty, leading into a large-scale jig movement in sonata form with both halves repeated and a coda. The music is similar in character to the finale of Joseph Haydn's Symphony No. 8 - a movement entitled 'La Tempesta'. If these storms are a bit too big to fit into a teacup, they are nonetheless among the most genial storms one will ever have to weather.
Saint-Foix comments upon 'the abnormal length of the movements, their variety, their brilliance' and Della Croce calls the work 'one of the richest, most solid and most elaborate symphonies' that Mozart had thus far composed. It must have been popular, judging by the dozens of manuscript copies dating from the 18th and early 19th centuries as well as André's edition of 1792. During this period the serenade from which the symphony was drawn remained virtually unknown.

Symphony in G major, K. 318
Dated 26 April 1779, this was the first symphony that Mozart composed after his abortive trip to Paris. Because the format of this work is unlike Mozart's other symphonies but similar to some Parisian opera comique overtures by Grétry, Mozart's biographers have exerted themselves trying to guess for which stage work this 'overture' may have been intended. Hermann Deiters suggested that it was for Thamos, King of Egypt (K. 345/336a) while Einstein thought that it was for the untitled and never completed Singspiel now known as Zaide (K. 344/336b). But the work's date of composition is too late for the first version of Thamos and too early for Zaide or for the second version of Thamos. If in fact the work was destined for something other than the usual church, court or chamber concerts in Salzburg, then it was, perhaps written for the theatrical troupe of Johann Heinrich Böhm. This troupe of nearly 50 actors, dancers and singers performed various of Mozart's works, including Thamos and a Gennan version of La finta giardiniera (K. 196) entitled Die verstellte Gärterin. Böhm's troupe was to be resident in Salzburg during the winter of 1779-80, but in April 1779 it was still in Augsburg, and Mozart (through the good offices of his Augsburg cousin Maria Anna Thekla Mozart, known as 'Das Bäsle') was in correspondence with Böhm about providing additional music for his productions.
All editions of the Köchel catalogue as well as the new Mozart edition have subtitled this work 'ouverture'. There is no authority for this label, which is apparently intended to make a distinction between concert symphonies and theatrical overtures - a distinction that hardly existed at the time. Mozart himself headed his score simply 'Sinfonia'. That he approved of its use in the theatre (as he probably would have done with any of his symphonies) is not in question, as he provided it (along with 2 new vocal numbers, K. 479 and 480) as the overture for a Viennese production of Bianchi's opera buffa La Villanella rapita in 1785. And it was as the overture to La Villanella rapita that this work was published and known to the 19th century.
The symphony calls for pairs of flutes, oboes and bassoons, with 4 horns and strings. The trumpets and kettle-drums do not appear in the original score, but were copied in separate parts by Mozart at some later date, perhaps for La Villanella rapita in 1785.
The opening allegro spiritoso is a beautifully crafted sonata-form movement with especially fine handling of orchestral sonorities. In several passages, for instance, the basso of Baroque tradition is resolved into independent parts for bassoon, cello and double bass, creating novel timbral effects. At the point in the movement where the recapitulation might be expected, the allegro breaks off and an andante of considerable poignancy and scope is heard. This leads without pause to a 'primo tempo' which, after a few bars of transition, places us not at the beginning of the recapitulation but rather 6 bars before the return of the so-called 'second subject'. Then follows the rest of the recapitulation with the 'missing' opening of the recapitulation reserved as a brilliant coda.

Symphony in Bb major, K. 319
The autograph is marked 'Salzburg, 9. Juli 1779'. Unfortunately the pages from Nannerl's diary covering the period between 16 June and 14 September of that year are missing, and no other document gives us a clue to the reason for Mozart writing this symphony. The work originally contained only 3 movements; the minuet was added later in Vienna, perhaps for one of the concerts Mozart gave there in 1782. This symphony is one of the 6 that Mozart ear-marked for publication in 1784, and it did in fact appear the following year. In 1786 it was among 12 works that Mozart offered to Prince von Fürstenberg for his exclusive use. Mozart's double deception - representing a seven-year-old work as recent and offering it for exclusive use when it had already been published - was soon uncovered, but the Prince, in an apparent display of noblesse oblige, paid Mozart the amount originally agreed upon.
The allegro assai in 3/4 is a sonata-form movement without repeats, filled with lively ideas of a much more conventional stripe than those of the previous symphony. To Saint-Foix the movement has a pastoral character and a Viennese lilt, and the latter point is supported by Abert, who compares the movement to Schubert. In the development section the attentive listener will note the appearance of the famous 4-note motto (do-re-fa-mi) with which the finale of the 'Jupiter' symphony opens. This motto, used by dozens of composers before and after Mozart, originated in sacred vocal polyphony, but does not appear to have been associated with any particular words. Mozart himself, for instance, used it in one Mass (K. 192) for the words 'Credo, credo' and in another (K. 257) for the words 'Sanctus, sanctus'.
The andante moderato is in the form A-B-A1B1-A-Coda, with the A1 section especially nicely handled imitatively, first in the strings in the dominant and then in the winds in the tonic. This cantabile movement is dominated by the strings in rather a chamber-music vein, with the dynamic nuances marked with particular care by Mozart.
Saint-Foix and Larsen both remark upon the supposed Viennese character of the minuet (would they have done so had they not known the movement to have been composed in Vienna instead of Salzburg?), by which they undoubtedly refer to the conciseness of the whole and especially to the Ländler-like trio.
The finale begins as if it were simply one more brisk jig-finale, but Mozart has a few tricks up his sleeve. The jig's triplets alternate with a march's duplets (and occasionally the two overlap), the wind writing is exceptionally felicitous, and the development section is a fine example of pseudo-counterpoint, which, while never exceeding two real voices at any moment, creates the illusion of many-layered polyphony.

Symphony in D major, K. 320
Dated Salzburg, 3 August 1779', the serenade from which this symphony was drawn was written, according to Mozart's Prague acquaintance Niemetschek, for Archbishop Colloredo's name-day (30 September). However, Mozart seldom wrote down a piece so far in advance of a deadline, and he himself referred to this work in a letter by the term 'Finalmusik'. The so-called 'Final-Musiken', usually given on a Wednesday since there was a school holiday on Thursdays, were serenades which the students of Salzburg University's philosophical faculty offered at the end of the academic year (which fell in early August) to the Prince-Archbishop at his summer residence ’Mirabell’ and to their professors in front of the University. Mozart created the symphony by omitting the serenade's march, its two movements for concertante winds, and both of its minuets with their trios.
A set of parts for the symphony version of this work preserved at Graz has corrections in Mozart's hand. It appears to be of Viennese origin, suggesting performances of the symphony there in the 1780's. The symphony was a popular one, judging from the many manuscripts of it found in European libraries and archives, and was perhaps one of the 6 that Mozart hoped to publish in 1784. In fact, however, it was published only in 1792.
The first movement begins majestically with a 6-bar adagio maestoso introduction, leading directly into a brilliant allegro con spirito in sonata form without repeats. An interesting and effective feature of the movement is found at the recapitulation , where the adagio material reappears in a slightly recomposed version and without a tempo change. This Mozart accomplishes by doubling the note values, so that a minim in allegro is precisely equal to a crotchet in adagio.
The andantino in D minor is exceptionally profound for a serenade or a symphony of this period, in which we usually find less chromaticism, a more songful attitude, and a major key (most often the subdominant). The movement is a fully fledged sonata-form movement with both sections repeated.
The finale, presto alla breve, is, like the other movements, in sonata form, here without repeats. lt begins unisono and hurtles through its nearly 300 bars in a decidedly light-hearted manner. Mozart saves some especially attractive bits for the oboes in the development section which, despite its thematic manipulation and imitative style, maintains the buffo character of the rest of the movement.

Symphony in C major, K. 338
This is Mozart's last symphony written in Salzburg, although not the last written for Salzburg (for which, see K. 385 below). He labelled the autograph 'Sinfonia di Wolfgango Amadeo Mozart m[anu] pr[opria] le 29 d'Agosto, Salsbourg [sic]1780'. We learn from Nannerl's diary that her brother played at court on the 2nd, 3rd and 4th of September; one of these occasions may therefore have seen the premiere of this symphony. Furthermore, Wolfgang already knew that he was to leave for Munich on 5 November to oversee the preparation of Idomeneo, and he may have wanted a new symphony in his baggage in case an opportunity to present himself in a concert there were to materialize. This symphony remained in Mozart's affections, for it was probably performed in Vienna on 3 April 1781 by the Tonkünstler-Societät and on 26 May 1782 at the Augarten, it was among 6 symphonies earmarked for publication in 1784 (but did not actually see print until 1797), and was among 12 works offered to Prince von Fürstenberg for his exclusive use in 1786. Indeed, a set of parts for this work with corrections in Mozart's hand are still in the Fürstenberg collection at Donaueschingen.
The first movement (Mozart originally headed it 'allegro' but later added to that 'vivace') is in sonata form without repeats. It opens with conventional fanfare materials, but Mozart, by inserting echoes and extensions of that material, gives it a special shape and considerable individuality. One soon senses in this movement Mozart's interest in longer musical sentences, and paragraphs in which a more sustained musical logic begins to replace the shorter-breathed, patchwork-quilt designs of his earlier symphonies.
As a second movement there was originally a minuet, but for unknown reasons Mozart tore it from the manuscript, and it is lost except for the first 14 bars which were written on the back of the final page of the opening movement. The notion promulgated by Einstein that the symphonic minuet, K. 409, in C major was written to be added to this symphony is incorrect. K. 409 is far too long to fit this symphony, and it calls for different forces.
The slow movement is labelled in the autograph score 'andante di molto', but Mozart must have found that this was interpreted slower than he wished it, for in the concertmaster's part in Donaueschingen he added 'più tosto allegretto'. This movement for strings (with divided violas) and bassoon doubling the bassline, is in binary form, or as some prefer to call it, sonata form without development section. Larsen hears nothing here but opera, including anticipations of Susanna and Zerlina. Saint-Foix finds 'a delicacy and emotion... unparalleled even in the work of Mozart', but to Della Croce the movement is archaic, filled with melodic clichés, and not worthy of the movements flanking it. Thus our uncertain progress across the quicksands of musical criticism.
The finale, allegro vivace, is another huge jig in sonata form, with both sections repeated. Mozart gives a special concertante role to the oboes. The increased breadth of conception of the first movement is audible again here.

Symphony in D major, K. 385 (’Haffner’)
The circumstances surrounding the creation of this work are more fully documented than those for any other of Mozart's symphonies. In mid-July 1782 Mozart's father wrote to him in Vienna requesting a new symphony for celebrations surrounding the ennoblement of Mozart's childhood friend Siegmund Haffner the younger.
On 20 luly Mozart replied:

'Well, I am up to my eyes in work. By Sunday week I have to arrange my opera [The Abduction from the Harem, K. 384] for wind instruments, otherwise someone will beat me to it and secure the profits instead of me. And now you ask me to write a new symphony too! How on earth can I do so? You have no idea how difficult it is to arrange a work of this kind for wind instruments, so that it suits them and yet loses none of its effect. Well, I must just spend the night over it, for that is the only way; and to you, dearest father, I sacrifice it. You may rely on having something from me by every post. I shall work as fast as possible and, as far as haste permits, I shall write something good'.

Although Mozart was prone to procrastination and to making excuses to his father, in this instance his complaints may well have been justified, for having just completed the arduous task of launching his new opera (the première was on 16 July), Mozart moved house on 23 July in preparation for his marriage. By 27 July he reported to his father:

‘You will be surprised and disappointed to find that this contains only the first Allegro; but it has been quite impossible to do more for you, for I have had to compose in a great hurry a serenade [probably K.375], but for wind instruments only (otherwise I could have used it for you too). On Wednesday the 31st I shall send the two minuets, the Andante and the last movement. If I can manage to do so, I shall send a march too. If not, you will just have to use the one from the Haffner music [K.249], which is quite unknown. I have composed my symphony in D major, because you prefer that key.'

On 29 July Siegmund Haffner the younger was ennobled and added to his name 'von Imbachhausen'. On the 31st, however, Mozart could still only write:

'You see that my intentions are good - only what one cannot do, one cannot! I won't scribble off inferior stuff. So I cannot send you the whole symphony until next post-day. I could have let you have the last movement, but I prefer to despatch it all together, for then it will cost only one fee. What I have sent you has already cost me three gulden.'

On 4 August Mozart and Constanze Weber were married in Vienna without having received Leopold's approval, which arrived grudgingly the following day. In the meanwhile the other movements must have been completed and sent off, for on 7 August Mozart wrote to his father:

'I send you herewith a short march [probably K. 408, no. 2]. I only hope that all will reach you in good time, and be to your taste. The first Allegro must be played with great fire, the last - as fast as possible.'

Precisely when the party celebrating Haffner's ennoblement occurred, and whether the new symphony was received in time to be performed on that occasion, is not known, for Leopold's letter reporting the event is lost. The fact that in a later letter Wolfgang was unsure whether or not orchestral parts had been copied (see below) suggests that the symphony had not arrived in time. Be that as it may, at some time prior to 24 August, Leopold must have written his approval of the work, for on that day Wolfgang responded, 'I am delighted that the symphony is to your taste'.
Three months later the symphony again entered Mozart's correspondence. On 4 December he wrote to his father, in a letter that went astray, asking for the score of the symphony to be returned. When it had become clear that his father had not received that letter, he wrote again on the 21st, summarizing the lost letter, including, 'If you find an opportunity, you might have the goodness to send me the new symphony that I composed for Haffner at your request. Please make sure that I have it before Lent, because I would very much like to perform it at my concert'. On 4 January he again urged his father to return the symphony, stating that either the score or the parts would be equally useful for his purposes. On the 22nd he again reminded his father, and on the 5th of February yet again with new urgency; '...as soon as possible, for my concert is to take place on the third Sunday in Lent, that is, on March 23rd, and I must have several copies made, I think, therefore, that if it is not copied [into orchestral parts] already, it would be better to send me back the original score just as I sent it to you; and remember to put in the minuets'. The usually punctilious Leopold's delay is mute testimony to the anger and frustration he felt over what he considered to be his son's foolish choice of a wife. In any case, by 15 February Wolfgang could write, 'Most heartfelt thanks for the music you have sent me... My new Haffner symphony has positively amazed me, for I had forgotten every single note of it. It must surely produce a good effect'.
Mozart then proceeded to rework the score sent from Salzburg by putting aside the march, eliminating one of the minuets, deleting the repeats of the two sections of the first movement, and adding pairs of flutes and clarinets in the first and last movements, primarily to reinforce the tuttis and requiring no change in the existing orchestration of those movements.
The 'academy' (as concerts were then called) duly took place on Sunday, 23 March, in the Burgtheatre. Mozart reported to his father:

'...the theatre could not have been more crowded and... every box was taken. But what pleased me most of all was that His Majesty the Emperor was present and, goodness! - how delighted he was and how he applauded me! It is his custom to send money to the box office before going to the theatre; otherwise I should have been fully justified in counting on a larger sum, for really his delight was beyond all bounds. He sent 25 ducats.'

In its broad outlines, Mozart's report is confirmed by a review of the concert:

'The Concert was honoured with an exceptionally large crowd, and the two new concertos and other fantasies which Herr Mozart played on the fortepiano were received with the loudest applause. Our Monarch, who, against his habit, attended the whole of the concert, as well as the entire audience, accorded him such unanimous applause as has never been heard of here. The receipts of the concert are estimated to amount to 1,600 gulden in all'.

The programme was typical of Mozart's 'academies' and demonstrates the role that symphonies were expected to fill as preludes and postludes framing an evening's events:
1. The first 3 movements of the 'Haffner' symphony (K. 385)
2. ‘Se il padre perdei' from Idomeneo (K. 366)
3. A piano concerto in C major (K. 415)
4. The recitative and aria 'Misera, dove son! - Ah! non son' io che parlo' (K. 369)
5. A sinfonia concertante (movements 3 and 4 from the serenade K. 320)
6. A piano concerto in D major (K. 175 with the finale K. 382)
7. ‘Parto m'affretto' from Lucio Silla (K. 135)
8. A short fugue ('because the Emperor was present')
9. Variations on a tune from Paisiello's I filosofi immaginarii (K. 398) and as an encore to that,
10. Variations on a, tune from Gluck's La Rencontre imprévue (K. 455)
11. The recitative and rondo 'Mia speranza adorata - Ah, non sai, qual pena' (K. 416)
12. The finale of the 'Haffner' symphony (K. 385)
Which of us wouldn’t give a great deal to be temporarily transported in one of science-fiction’s time machines to the Burgtheatre on that Sunday in March 1783 to hear such a concert led by Mozart at the fortepiano?
The 'Haffner' symphony was among the 6 symphonies that Mozart planned to have published in 1784 and in the following year the work was indeed brought out in Vienna by Artaria, in the four-movement version but without the additional flutes and clarinets. The fuller orchestration appeared in Paris published by Sieber with a title page bearing the legend 'Du repertoire du Concert spirituel'. (The work had been given at the Concert spirituel apparently on 17 April 1783.) Despite the symphony's wide availability, Mozart included it among pieces that he sold to Prince von Fürstenberg 'for performance solely at his court' in 1786.
Having dwelt at some length on the history of the 'Haffner' symphony, we shall be content to let the music speak for itself - which it does so eloquently - without further description or analysis. This recording is the first to be made of the original, Salzburg version of K. 385 and is lacking only the second minuet and trio, which are no longer extant. Mozart and his father consistently referred to this work as a symphony, even though the configuration of movements of this Salzburg version brings it into a close relationship with the works we know as orchestral serenades.

Symphony in C major, K. 425 (’Linz’)
Mozart’s letters in the months following his marriage are filled with promises of a journey to Salzburg to enable his father, his sister, and their friends to meet his bride. Excuse after excuse was found to postpone this trip, however, not only because Mozart was keenly aware that his father and sister disapproved of his choice of a wife, but also because he feared the possibility of his being arrested in Salzburg for having left the archbishop's service without official permission. Upon being reassured by his father concerning the latter, Wolfgang and Constanze finally set out, arriving in Salzburg toward the end of July 1783 and remaining there until the end of October. It is clear from what little we know of the visit, that it was a difficult one for all concerned.
On the return trip to Vienna Wolfgang and Constanze had to pass through the town of Linz. An excerpt from Mozart's letter to his father from there on 31 October is self-explanatory:

'We arrived here safely yesterday morning at 9 o'clock. We spent the first night in Vöcklabruck and reached Lambach Monastery next morning, where I arrived just in time to accompany the 'Agnus Dei' on the organ. The abbot [Amand Schickmayrl was absolutely delighted to see me again... We spent the whole day there, and I played both on the organ and on a clavichord. I heard that an opera was to be given next day at Ebelsberg at the house of the Prefect Steurer... and that almost all Linz was to be assembled. I resolved therefore to be present and we drove there. Young Count Thun (brother of the Thun at Vienna) called on me immediately and said that his father had been expecting me for a fortnight and would I please drive to his house at once for I was to stay with him. I told him that I could easily put up at an inn. But when we reached the gates of Linz on the following day, we found a servant waiting there to drive us to Count Thun's, at whose house we are now staying. I really cannot tell you what kindnesses the family are showering on us. On Tuesday, November 4th, I am giving a concert in the theatre here and, as I have not a single symphony with me, I am writing a new one at break-neck speed, which must be finished by that time. Well, I must close, because I really must set to work...'

There we have it. Between 30 October and 4 November Mozart conceived and wrote out a new symphony, had parts copied, and may or may not have rehearsed the orchestra in the work. (Recall here Kirnberger's statement made in the 1770's that the symphony 'will not be practised like the sonata but must be sight-read'. That symphonies were fortunate to receive a single rehearsal and often had none is confirmed by numerous anecdotes from the biographies of Mozart, Haydn, Dittersdorf, and others.) We know nothing of the orchestra at Linz (perhaps the same one that played for the unidentified opera a few days earlier), but the evidence of the symphony itself suggests that it was of respectable size, lacking only clarinets. As for the programme, it seems that a G-major symphony by Michael Haydn for which Mozart provided a slow introduction and which long passed as a work entirely by Mozart (K. 444/425a) may also have been performed. And as Mozart's 'academies' seldom failed to include one or two of his piano concertos, some arias, and some solo improvisations at the keyboard, this programme was perhaps similar.
The 'Linz' symphony was taken to Vienna by Mozart where he performed it again at his 'academy' of 1 April 1784 in the Burgtheatre. On 15 May he sent his father a score for the symphony; Leopold reported a performance under his direction at a concert in Salzburg on 15 September, referring to it in a letter to Nannerl as 'your brother's excellent new symphony'. Mozart included this 'excellent' symphony among the 6 planned for publication in 1784, although in fact it did not reach print until 1793. Beginning in 1785 the Viennese copyist Johann Traeg offered manuscript sets of parts of K. 425 for sale, which however did not prevent Mozart from brazenly offering it for the 'exclusive' use of Prince von Fürstenberg the following year. Mozart also apparently performed the 'Linz' symphony in Prague in October and November of 1787, where he had gone to oversee the premiere of Don Giovanni. One performance was probably given by the private orchestra of Count Thun (who had a residence in Prague in addition to that in Linz) and another at an 'academy' given by Mozart for his own benefit with the assistance of the Prague opera orchestra. Niemetschek, who was present at the second occasion, recalled that the symphonies (probably K. 425 and 504) appeared to be 'true masterpieces of instrumental music, full of startling transitions; they have a rapid, fiery progression, and they attune the soul to expectation of something exalted'.
From the moment we hear the noble, doubledotted rhythms of the adagio introduction we begin to grasp what Niemetschek may have meant by 'expectation of something exalted'. In an instant we are plunged into the world of Mozart's late masterpieces. Only one other composer writing in 1783 was capable of a symphony to compare with this, and that was Joseph Haydn. And several commentators have sensed Haydn's spirit hovering over the first movement in several features, and especially the slow introduction which was a Haydn trademark but rare in Mozart. The large scale of the first movement, its perfectly proportioned form, the brilliance of its orchestration - none of these give the slightest clue to the hurried circumstances under which the work was created.
The andante offers novelty - the presence of the usually silent trumpets and kettle-drums - that changes what might have been simply an exquisite cantilena into a movement of occasionally almost apocalyptic intensity. Beethoven must have taken note of the effectiveness of this innovation when he decided to use the trumpets and kettle-drums in similar ways in the same key in the slow movement of his first symphony.
The minuet and trio form the most conventional of the 4 movements. The pomp of the minuet is nicely set off by the mock innocence of the oboe and bassoon duet in the trio. None of the highjinks here that Mozart often put into his trios for local Salzburg consumption.
The finale is akin to that of the 'Haffner' symphony and, similarly, was undoubtedly meant to go as fast as possible. As a foil to the brilliant homophonic texture that dominates this spirited movement, Mozart inserts passages of the kind of pseudo-polyphony which we have already noted in the finale of K. 319.
Knowing nothing of the orchestral forces in Linz, we have chosen to record this work as it may have been heard in Salzburg. It was the sound of the Salzburg orchestra that was freshest in Mozart's mind as he sat down on 30 October 1783 to begin this splendid work, a work which, for unknown reasons, has been consistently underrated in comparison with the 4 symphonies that Mozart was still to compose in the few years remaining to him.